


usual suspects

by cardinal__sin



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, First Meetings, Flirting, M/M, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, bartender timothy lawrence, pre-jack surgery, student timothy lawrence, timothy lawrence looking like himself, young timothy lawrence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:01:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25181407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cardinal__sin/pseuds/cardinal__sin
Summary: Jack goes to his usual watering hole to get drunk and blow off steam. The new employee is cute. Incompetent, but cute. Jack finds himself curious about the young man, and buys him a drink to get to know him better.He might have big plans in store for him, as well.
Relationships: Handsome Jack/Timothy Lawrence
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	usual suspects

**Author's Note:**

> so yeah! timmy being his cool freckled baby self and jack being an obnoxious ass. we love to see it!
> 
> also, the title is pretty generic but i had the hollywood undead song of the same title in mind when naming it, so there. listen to it.  
> enjoy!

“Just the usual,” Jack mutters as he drops unceremoniously onto a stool in front of the bar counter. The scruffy-looking man who was sitting there before Jack glared at him and got him to vacate his spot gives him a nasty side-eye but doesn’t initiate conflict. _Good_. He had a damned awful day and just needs to get drunk and forget about it.

When his drink isn’t in front of him in thirty seconds as it usually is, Jack looks up with a frown to find a _boy_ staring at him with wide, deep-brown eyes. He’s wearing a rather unfortunate apron and he’s holding a cleaning rag, twisting it around his hands nervously. He’s staring at Jack with his mouth shaping a tiny, surprised _o_ , and is not _giving him his fucking drink_.

“Are you deaf, pumpkin?” Jack sneers at him, to which the boy snaps out of his staring and his face immediately contorts into something that Jack could only describe as _please don’t hurt me, I’m innocent_. To his credit, it works really well with his freckles and messy auburn hair and all-around childlikeness.

“S-sorry, sir,” The boy stutters, “I don’t know what that is. I’m new here.”

God. Of course. Just what he needed. A fucking newbie who has no idea what the fuck he’s supposed to do. This fucked up day just got a whole lot fuckeder. Which is a word Jack just invented and it conveys his emotional and physical state perfectly.

“Does _anyone_ here know what my usual order is?” He calls out to the crowded bar.

“Three shots of whisky and two lines of snow!” The patrons yell in unison. Everyone knows who Handsome Jack is, and everyone knows what he likes. The perks of being him.

Jack turns back to the bartender with a grin. A mean one, at that. The kid is still standing in place, which is odd, because the place only has one brand of whisky so really, making that fucking drink wouldn’t be so fucking difficult. But what does good old Jack know, huh.

“I –”

“Oh my god, kid, don’t look so spooked,” Jack laughs, because hell, the boy is so fucking innocent it’s almost painful to watch, “you only need to get the whisky. I have the coke on me.”

“How are you _alive_?” The kid asks, then immediately slaps a hand over his mouth, looking at Jack with wide eyes. It’s adorable and annoying as fuck. Jack isn’t in the mood for murder, anyway, so he has nothing to fear.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have, I’m just new here and I – I’ll just go get your drink.”

Jack watches him fix his shots with an amused smile. He hates to admit it, but this clumsy, innocent bartender is improving his night a significant amount. It’s been a while since anyone has caught his attention and now there’s this absolute nightmare of a bar employee making him _curious_ of all things.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Jack asks the boy when he sets down his shots. He almost spills one of them as he flinches from actually being talked to, and looks at Jack with confusion in his big, brown doe eyes.

“I – I work here,” he says, finally, and Jack just can’t help it, he bursts into laughter.

“I know you do, kiddo, but we can fix that.” He turns to the bar’s owner, currently playing some dice game with a bunch of bandits. “Hey, boss man, can you let this star employee on a break for me?”

“Sure thing, Jackie,” the man says, then turns towards the counter to yell, “Iz! You’re taking over for Tim! Get your ass in here!”

The kid – _Tim_ , Jack corrects himself – is staring at him with an expression of pure panic.

“Oh my god, I thought you were gonna get Arson to fire me,” he gasps, “I really really need this job you scared me so bad!”

“I’m a scary man, kid,” Jack smirks, “but I wouldn’t get you fired. And I’ll see to it that you won’t get your pay cut either because I’m _nice_. And because boss man owes me a fav – did you say Arson?”

“That is his legal name, yes,” Tim replies, tone dead serious. They stare at each other for a few seconds and burst into laughter at the same time.

“Fucking Arson,” Jack wheezes between two hiccupping breaths, “God, kid, I’m starting to like you!”

Tim stares more.

“Thanks?” He answers finally. It sounds more like a question than an answer.

“So, will you actually buy me a drink or should I stare at you doing shots?”

“Right.”

Jack waves a hand to Iz – wow he’s learning the employees’ names, who _is_ he – and lets her know Tim’s order is going on his tab. Iz just throws a wink at him and goes back to do her job. Maybe another day Jack would have taken that wink and run with it, but now he has Tim and his weirdly blue cocktail sitting with him and somehow he doesn’t feel like trading that for a hookup with Iz in the alley behind the bar.

“You know,” Tim says, after taking a generous sip from his drink that Jack thinks may be called Blue Bubblegum, which really says a lot about its presumed taste, “I’ve never had a stranger buy me a drink before.”

“I’m hardly a stranger, cupcake,” Jack laughs. “I mean…”

He points at his face with a grin and waggles his eyebrows, but Tim is just staring at him with mild confusion, that dumb metal straw hanging between his surprisingly kissable-looking lips. If Jack weren’t using half his mind to fantasize about fucking Tim, he would probably be throwing a fit about someone not knowing him. Like this, he only smiles at him.

“That’s okay, I’m boring anyway. Tell me about yourself instead!”

Tim stares. He seems to be doing an awful lot of that, and Jack can’t say he minds. Tim has pretty, _pretty_ eyes and as long as he’s staring at Jack, it’s fine. Getting a little attention never hurt nobody.

“I, uh,” Tim starts, “I’m Tim, I’m, uh twenty-two, sophomore university student.”

“See, Timtam, that’s a good start!” Jack smiles. He promptly knocks back a shot and enjoys Tim’s vaguely horrified expression before waving a hand at him to continue.

“What’s your dream job? Cause I can’t imagine it’s working at this shithole, though you seemed pretty adamant on not being fired.”

“Nobody likes getting fired,” Tim shrugs, “and I’m also drowning in debt. So I’m gonna try to not starve to death and get an education, so I can become an actor without my mom telling me I’m wasting my life.”

He takes another sip of his drink that, now that Jack smells it on his breath – are they sitting that close to each other?? – is probably just cotton candy dissolved in vodka. Classy.

“Actor, you say?” Jack asks, “anything I might have seen you in?”

“Not really,” Tim mumbles, “mostly just local theatre and a couple of indie productions. I’m waiting for my big break.”

“Oh, with such a pretty face I’m sure you’ll be famous in no time,” Jack grins, and doesn’t say _and with_ my _face, you’d be guaranteed a contract and a steady paycheck_.

“God I hope so,” Tim laughs nervously, “otherwise my loans will kill me. I would sell my soul just to have them paid off – don’t take that literally!”

Jack doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t answer. He’s having an idea. It’s a new one and slightly reluctant, because he personally thinks Tim is nice to look at, but it is definitely something to consider. Tim is an actor. Tim is desperate for money. He doesn’t seem to have any family supporting him from first glance. He would be _perfect_. And Jack has to admit that however cute Tim is, he still prefers his own face.

Jack does his second shot. Fuck it. Worst case scenario is Tim says no. His loss.

“What if I could help you with that, pumpkin?”

Tim leans forward in his seat. “What are you saying?” He asks, frowning at Jack.

“It’s an acting job, in short,” Jack begins, because he’s not stupid enough to start a pitch with _large-scale plastic surgery_ , “a bit more complicated, but it pays quite a sexy amount.”

“How sexy?” Tim asks, and Jack swears he can see dollar signs lighting up in his eyes. He takes out a pen from his jacket’s inner pocket and scribbles the numbers on the cocktail napkin lying on the counter between them. Tim takes a look at it and his eyes go comically wide.

“Holy crap,” he whispers, “that’s –”

“A month’s pay, yes,” Jack cuts in, smiling charmingly at Tim, who looks like he’s about to faint.

“Consider it, kid, I would love to see more of you in the future.”

He throws back his last shot and slams the empty glass on the counter. He stands from his seat, ready to leave, but Tim grabs onto his forearm, stopping him in his tracks.

“I still don’t know who you are,” the kid says, and looks up at Jack with those fucking puppy eyes and oh god Jack needs to leave before he can’t stop himself from jumping him.

“The name’s Handsome Jack, princess,” he drawls with a toothy smile, “I think you’ll find me just fine.”

His free hand comes up to stroke Tim’s cheek almost gently, thumb brushing over the smattering of freckles. Tim’s mouth drops open in surprise and he lets go of Jack, who takes the opportunity and steps away from the boy.

He stops for a second at the door of the bar and looks back at Tim with a crooked smirk. The kid still sits where Jack left him, his half-consumed drink forgotten on the counter as Tim looks at Jack with his mouth still slightly open.

There’s no fucking way he won’t accept Jack’s offer, now.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! as always, if you have any (constructive) criticism or noticed a spelling or grammar error, don't hesitate to point it out! otherwise, kudos and comments are appreciated.  
> find me on tumblr, twitter and instagram as @cardinalxsin :)


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